


Sweaty Socks and Wet Cocks

by CombiningPowers



Category: Chris Pratt - Fandom, CombiningPowers
Genre: Feet, First Person, Foot Fetish, Licking Sweat, M/M, POV, Sock Fetish, Socks, Stink, Submission, Sucking Toes, Sweat, foot, masseuse - Freeform, musk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 17:07:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18595690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CombiningPowers/pseuds/CombiningPowers
Summary: You, a masseuse at a private resort are visited by none other than the incredibly handsome, incredibly naive Chris Pratt and he's just lying there, waiting for you to work your magic on his aching, tired body. When his stresses and tensions are revealed to be nurtured deep within the soles of his large, juicy feet ... there's only one remedy you know of that can aid him.





	Sweaty Socks and Wet Cocks

“I normally don’t do these sorts of things but I think some of my stress has literally buried itself in the soles of my feet,” divulged Chris Pratt airily as he laid back in the outdoor arm-chair, his legs and sock-covered feet extended out on the stool provided. You contained your initial awe and excitement and simply nodded at the actor’s comment, biting your tongue to avoid scaring the man away from your massage station. It wasn’t everyday that someone of his stature and renown visited the resort you worked at after all, let alone for your services in particular. Then again, he definitely wasn’t the first.

“Shall we get started?” you asked politely, seated opposite the man in front of his resting legs. “Yup, you came highly recommended from one of my friends, um Evans I think, so … do your thing,” chirped Pratt kindly as he sunk into the chair, the summer’s breeze washing over his exposed chest and arms like a blanket. Your thoughts corrupted as you relived the naughty memory when Chris Evans came to visit the resort months ago, the look on the man’s face as he came etched permanently in your mind. It was a good day and hopefully today would be no different.

You subtly licked your lips and rubbed your hands eagerly as you eyed Pratt’s pristine feet, the clean, cotton socks visibly damp with what you prayed was a morning’s worth of sweat. “It’s amazing how much sweat the body releases through the feet alone,” you informed as you carefully wrapped your hands around your client’s thick soles, the man jumping slightly as the sudden stimuli radiated through him. “I heard it was like half a litre,” winced Pratt as his feet twitched in the capable hands, the hairs on his arms already standing on end. “Did you learn that on Buzzfeed?” you questioned in a friendly tone, smiling brightly when Pratt nodded in agreement. “I’m sorry If you want me to keep quiet I will,” you explained, gently pressing your fingers into Chris’s meaty flesh in short bursts; the man biting his lip as the strong, unfamiliar feelings circled around his ankles.

“No no, I think its less awkward when there’s conversation. Plus you’d know all about the feet I presume,” jested Pratt casually, trying his best to keep his feet from unconsciously twitching and thrashing out of your grasp. “Should I take off my socks?” inquired Chris as you rubbed your thumbs in circular motions around his heels. “I’d leave them on for a bit longer, helps soak up the sweat,” you explained, the man sinking back into his chair.

Cracking the bones on your fingers as you’ve done hundreds if not thousands of time throughout your life, you began to clutch Pratt’s sock-covered toes; squeezing the soft buds between your fingertips. One by one you made your way up and down the two lengths, making sure to rub and massage the gaps between the 10 toes. Pratt was groaning softly as you focussed on his toes, his obviously restrained vocals giving you a hardon. Over time you began to apply more and more pressure as you caressed his covered toes, gleefully smiling as Chris’s low and grumbling moans became louder.

“It feels really nice … but weird at the same time,” interjected Pratt as he rested his head back into the chair, his feet no longer trying to escape as they were minutes earlier. “Yea, I believe everyone feels the same way during their first foot massage, but if you thought this was good … you’ll see,” you replied kindly if deviously, moving your hands downwards towards the centre of each foot. “This is where all your weight is carried so, maybe hold onto something,” you politely informed before pushing your flexible thumbs into the cushiony mid-section of his feet.

“Oh Jesus!” jumped Pratt as his two feet were overpowered once again, giggling to himself slightly as your thumbs tickled the many nerve endings. “I see what you mean,” agreed Pratt as he slowly got used to the intense force pushing above his soles, his numerous tendons and muscles relaxing and loosening as your digits circled into them. “Does it feel good?” you asked with a sly smile, always enjoying the small degree of power and control that massaging another person’s foot gained you. Pratt nodded and bit his finger as you rubbed up and down his ticklish underside, his sweaty socks gliding as your fingers expertly manoeuvred.

“Ok, I think we can remove the socks now,” you motioned after a few minutes of careful but forceful caressing, backing away slightly to let the man undress himself further. “No worries, hope the smell isn’t too bad,” apologised Chris as he arched forwards and bent his leg; pulling off the sweaty socks one by one and tossing them aside. “The smell … isn’t a problem,” you reassured, breathing deeply and letting the mild salty aroma fill your nostrils. Deep down you wished that Chris had worn said socks for a few days before visiting you, but mildly unclean socks are still a ‘tasty’ treat.

Leaning forward once more, you gripped the marginally slippery feet in your hands and held back the urge to ravishingly slurp down on the sexually appealing body-parts. The bubble of air surrounding the two thumpers was tinged with the man’s unique, masculine odour mixed with damp perspiration. You were extremely relieved that you had learned how to hide your own personal satisfaction from clients as you ‘absorbed’ the ‘essence’ that emanated off their feet.

Repeating the same types of routines from before, you began with the toes and slowly made your way down to the heels, your fingers aching as you pressed forcefully into the man’s flesh. As you continued to massage, Chris’s feet became hotter and hotter as his blood surged to the area, the surface skin glistening shortly after as his feet cooled down via sweat. The looped process was a godsend and the sight of his salty, wet feet caused your mouth to salivate with delight. 

-

“Mr. Pratt, I offer a very unique type of foot massage and I’m asking for your permission to carry it out,” you inquired as you reached the 45 minute mark, your hands throbbing from a continuous session of rubbing. “Evans said something about this … um, I’m not sure though,” remarked Pratt honestly, feeling a little bad as he had enjoyed the service greatly so far. “Tell you what, let me give you a 30 second example and you can decide if you want more or less after that,” you propositioned delicately, hoping that your skills would impress the other man. “Ok, sure why not,” pronounced Chris, getting comfortable in his chair, awaiting in both anticipation and nervousness.

With the go ahead, you brought your face close to the man’s sweaty and already ‘tenderised’ feet and gave the saline surface a long and generous lick, licking the man’s right foot from the top to the bottom in one stroke. As expected, Chris moaned quite loudly before jolting in his chair as he realised that there was a tongue brushing against him. “Were you licking my foot?” questioned Pratt in both embarrassment and confusion as he leaned forwards, unsure if you might’ve accidentally fallen towards him or something.

“Of course, how else am I going to give you the full experience,” you explained normally, taking advantage of the fact that Pratt didn’t exactly know what a regular foot massage involved. “With your tongue? That’s a bit … weird,” defended Pratt awkwardly, unknowing if he’s done something wrong or was missing a vital bit of evidence. “Well, you thought it was weird when we started so this is just another … barrier,” you carefully coaxed, using the same lines on Evans months prior. “Still, isn’t it gross?” asked Chris inquisitively, scratching the back of his head. “Trust me Mr. Pratt, you don’t have to worry about me,” you replied before gesturing to the shocked man to lay back down.

With the usual interjector out of the way, you resumed where you left off and began lapping at the warm, salty skin of Pratt’s right foot. The taste was exquisite and Chris’s unconscious squirming made it all the better; your hands holding the man still by the ankles as your mouth went to work. Spitting out saliva in thick spurts, you used your lips to slather the warm fluid around the immediate area, licking gingerly as Pratt hummed in pleasure. “Are you feeling more relaxed now?” you queried with a soft kiss to Chris’s big toe, your tongue darting from left to right. “Y-Yea … I think i got an erection,” admitted Pratt timidly, tapping his fingers around his crotch to test his hypothesis. 

“Well the feet and genitals are all sorta linked together in the brain, so don’t be alarmed,” you teased with a generous lap of your tongue across his wet toes; the man buckling in place as the erotic sensation parsed. Moving onwards with the schedule, you brought your hands away from his ankle and enclosed them around the mid-section of his foot, your thumbs pressing hard into the thick flesh. As your digits pulsed with regulated pressure, you opened your mouth and wrapped your hot mouth around 4 of his toes at once, sucking the salty sweat and saliva that marinated his foot hungrily. “OH FUCK,” whined Pratt as your tongue danced in-between his wiggling, twitching toes, your hands holding his kicking foot in place.

Looking upwards, you made slutty eye contact with the actor as you enthusiastically shoved more and more of his foot into your greedy gullet, your own moans vibrating the sensitive tissue within. As your hands massaged and rubbed his heel, your mouth deepthroated his toes, your inner cheeks brushing against the fluttering digits. Much to your delight, Pratt began to touch himself, slipping his hand through the waistband of his shorts. Though you were too immersed in his delicious feet, you could feel his hand pumping up and down on his crotch.

=

As you knew he probably wouldn’t last very long, you made the sneaky choice to completely remove yourself from his right foot, smiling slightly as the man whined in disagreement. Before he could protest however, you aligned yourself with his untouched left foot, the ‘virgin’ paw not acclimated to your mouth and its accompanying sensations. Going to a full 100, you resumed your earlier position: mouth wrapped around his toes with your fingers digging harshly into his supple heel. As his left foot didn’t receive the drawn-out buildup his right foot received, you could only imagine the overpowering feelings coursing through Chris’s unprepared nervous system.

“OH JESUS CHRIST, GOD,” screamed Pratt in ecstasy as your mouth and hands worked their magic all over his left foot, the man covering his yelping maw as if by instinct. You did not care for his concerns and continued at your quick and forceful pace, the taste of his fresh and untainted left toes sating your sexual appetite. You could feel your own cock throbbing in your pants as you relished in servicing his sexy foot, the power you felt over the squirming man bolstering your libido. The salty taste filled your mouth as you engulfed more and more of his left foot, your tongue stretched to cover as much ground as possible. You only wished that his foot was dirtier.

“I think I’m cumming!” moaned Pratt after only a minute of your invigorative foot massage, the man’s face scrunching as his cock exploded in his shorts. The smell of fresh semen filled your nostrils as your mouth vacuum-sucked his sweaty toes, the foot sweating even more profusely as a result of the finishing blow. Removing yourself from the actor, you gave each of his feet a finishing and drawn-out lick, drinking the salty ichor as if it were the last ounces of water on Earth. Picking up a towel, you dried off Pratt’s saliva soaked feet and let the man process what just happened.

“That was incredible, I see why Evans recommended you to me,” huffed Pratt as he inspected his splotchy shorts, his cum leaking through the thin material. “I do hope to see you and your friends more often,” you cajoled professionally, wiping the thick mixture from your lips with your arm. Pratt nodded affirmably and left a very large bundle of money on the chair as he got up. “I was gonna buy everyone at the bar a drink … but I believe you earned it,” complimented Chris with a hefty and relaxed smile, making his way out of the sequestered and hidden area of the resort. “Thank you, and you have such sexy feet Mr. Pratt,” you concluded, “don’t be a stranger.”

-

As the man left, you breathed a sigh of relief and shook your hands as if to literally shake the tension and stress out. As enjoyable and gratifying as it was, being a foot masseuse was no easy task. As you wiped down the seat and organised the small bundle of towels, you noticed the two socks that Pratt had removed earlier. Checking your watch and realising you had an hour to spare before your next client, the dirty thoughts of sniffing the damp and sweaty socks as you masturbated filled your head. As if controlled by a puppet-master, your hands reached out to the two garments and immediately brought them to your nose. 

Inhaling deeply, the rich scent of Pratt’s musk and feet filled your senses; the mildly discoloured cotton wafting its aroma directly into you. As your left hand held the two floppy socks to your nose, your right hand began to pump away at your pre-cum soaked penis, the wet sloshing noises as you touched yourself filling your ears. Closing your eyes and picturing Pratt’s perfect feet once again, you lost yourself in the imaginary fantasy, the taste of his soles still on the tip of your tongue.

“I realised I forget my-” suddenly interrupted Pratt as he came back to your massage station, pausing as he realised what he was interrupting. Looking up at the man in surprise, your body froze; the scene appearing exactly as it looked. “You know what. I’ll come back later … after a barefoot hike,” bantered Pratt as he left you alone to your devices, the devious and shit-eating grin plastered across his face almost causing you to burst out laughing. The mood was unfortunately ruined, but the idea of servicing the man after a hike energised you in a different manner. 

For now, you decided to rest your fragile hands. God knows they deserved a break


End file.
